Run Devil Run
by dnachemlia
Summary: Is the Devil hiding in plain sight? It is merely a question of perception. A story told from two points of view. Written for the NFA Paul McCartney Songbook and What Happened to Me? Challenges.
1. Chapter 1

Run Devil Run

Written for the _Paul McCartney Songbook_ Challenge and the _What Happened to Me?_ Challenge.

Originally a one shot, but I split it into chapters. The fic is complete and a chapter a day will be posted.

Genre: Mystery/ Suspense

Rating: T/FR 15

Summary: Is the Devil hiding in plain sight? It is merely a question of perception. A story told from two points of view.

Disclaimer: Still don't own. Bummer

This one is sort of Social Outsider's fault. She wanted a story about "McGee as the Devil". Pretty sure this isn't what she had in mind, but…

__**Chapter 1**

_This is what she says to keep the demons away_

_Run Devil run…_

_~Run Devil Run, by Paul McCartney (1999)_

When she first caught sight of him, she felt a cold stab of terror pierce her heart. It was unbelievable, and yet… it made sense. Beneath that boyish-face, behind those bright green and intelligent eyes, lurked the face of a monster, _the_ monster. Satan himself. Of course the origin of all sin, the root of all evil, would hide behind such an innocent mask. Much less obvious than the serpent, much easier to earn trust and thus to manipulate.

None of those around him seemed to realize what was in their midst. They were all blind, or perhaps they had already been corrupted and were serving their dark master. _She _could see him for what he was. _She_ knew that the Devil walked among them. _She_ would have to be the one to end the Dark Prince's reign on Earth. Her guardians told her what she had to do, and she knew it was the only way to redeem herself for her past sins.

She wanted to rush in, to tear the life out of him, but her constant companions told her to wait. Learn his routine. Catch him off-guard. It would not be an easy task, killing the Devil. She needed time to prepare, time to find the perfect weapon. She would have to be patient, but she knew he would not escape her. It was her duty. It was her _destiny._

She saw his gaze start to move towards her, those dreadful, evil eyes, and she concealed herself. She feared he would be able to hear her hammering heartbeat and discern her intentions, but he did not move towards her. Perhaps he felt her righteousness and feared _her_. The thought warmed her, and she smiled as she watched him finally leave with his group. He was retreating, but he could not avoid his fate forever.

_Run, Devil, run…_

XXX

Tim paused, his camera still aimed at the piece of evidence he was documenting, and waited for the faint feeling of unease that had arisen to pass. He waited, listening for some clue that would explain the apprehension he inexplicably felt but nothing drew his attention. Finally he lowered the camera and scanned the alleyway, searching for a hint of danger. He caught a brief flash of movement out of the corner of his eye but when he turned there was nothing there. He started to wonder if he was just imagining things. Maybe the case, the brutal murder of a young Marine, was getting to him. He glanced over at the spot where the mutilated body had been found and suppressed a shudder. He didn't know why this particular case bothered him so much. He had seen much worse over the years, but there was something…

"Problem, McGee?" Gibbs voice, directly behind Tim, carried its normal gruffness

"Uh, no, Boss. I just thought…" He turned and saw the lead agent's eyes narrow with impatience and he immediately forsook the idea of expressing his fear. "Never mind. I'm almost done here."

Gibbs moved off without another word and Tim resumed his task. He hoped the familiarity of what he was doing would calm his nerves, but the feeling of being watched remained until he joined the rest of his team for the trip back to the Yard.

XXX

She followed him until she reached a barrier she couldn't cross and settled in to wait. She was fairly sure this could not be his permanent lair. It was too public, too full of people, not all of whom appeared as if they were under his influence. She watched, and she waited, and finally when it grew dark, she saw him leave the building and walk to his car: a Porsche. She almost laughed. The Devil was vain, and of course he would surround himself with luxury. She wondered why no one else had questioned such excessiveness in a government employee. It just showed how much those surrounding him had been fooled by the Father of Lies.

She hung back, waiting until he had left the safety of his workplace before she started to follow him. It was surprisingly easy, and she briefly wondered if he was luring her into a trap. She would have to be cautious and not approach too soon, lest she would find herself in peril.

She followed him to an apartment complex in a middle-class section of the city. Again, she pondered the contrast. He was able to pass off as ordinary: normal job, normal residence, but anyone caring to peer beneath the surface would surely see what she saw: the dark, twisted, horrible visage. Unfortunately, it seemed they preferred to turn a blind eye to the personification of evil that walked among them. She was disgusted that no one would see him as she did, but it only strengthened her resolve to complete her task. She and she alone knew the stakes.

Once again, she met a barrier and could not follow, but she watched the windows of the complex, hoping for a hint of the precise location of his lair, and soon she was rewarded for her diligence. A light appeared in one of the second story windows, close to the fire escape, and after a few moments the window opened. She could see him inside, looking out at the night and surveying his surroundings. She felt a small welling of satisfaction. She had managed to rattle him. Soon the warmth of her accomplishment faded. He was wary, and it would make it much more difficult to find a vulnerable moment in which to strike. She growled in frustration and retreated, but not far. She would never be far from her target, not until she had completed her mission.

XXX

Tim opened the door to his apartment, expecting to be met by an exuberant German shepherd, and frowned when he found the small entryway empty.

"Jethro?" he called. Silence. He drew his gun and cautiously moved deeper into the apartment, alert to anything out of place, but his living space was as he had left it that morning. Finally he reached his bedroom and saw Jethro standing at the window, hackles raised along his back and growling softly.

"What's wrong, boy?" Tim asked. Jethro turned and let out a sound somewhere between a whine and a growl before returning his attention to the window.

"What's got you stirred up tonight, huh?" Tim flipped on the light and moved to the window where he peered out. He searched the area for signs of an intruder and found nothing. The feeling of dread that he had experienced at the crime scene earlier returned, but he tried to dismiss it as exhaustion-the result of a long and difficult day. "Come on, Jethro, I know it's late, but you need your pre-bedtime walk."

At the mention of a walk, Jethro finally turned his full attention to his master and wagged his tail before rushing past Tim towards the front door. Tim shook his head and quickly changed into his running gear before tucking his holster into the waistband of his sweatpants. He grabbed Jethro's leash from the rack, attached it to the excited dog's collar and opened the door. Jethro nearly pulled Tim's arm from its socket as he surged down the hallway, and Tim struggled to reign in his companion before he finally managed to gain control.

"Calm down, damn it! I need to lock the door." He dragged Jethro back to the apartment and turned the key in the lock, then adjusted his grip on the leash and urged the dog to follow him. Jethro didn't need to be told twice.

Once outside, Jethro began pulling Tim towards the road that ran behind the building, barking viciously. Tim tried to keep the dog in check but Jethro was not to be deterred and finally Tim broke into a jog as he tried to keep up. He caught a brief glimpse of a figure as it jumped into the driver's seat of a rather decrepit pickup truck but before he could get a better glimpse of the driver or the license plate the truck pulled out onto the road with a screech of tires and roar of a poorly maintained engine. Tim bit back a curse as he and Jethro raced after the vehicle but they were too slow. It had already disappeared around a corner.

Once the vehicle was out of sight, Jethro calmed down and began to pull Tim in a different direction, towards their normal jogging trail. Tim managed to keep him in check as he debated calling the police but soon realized that he had nothing to offer as a reason for his call. He had no idea if the person fled in fear of the large, aggressively barking dog, or because they had been discovered watching the agent's apartment. Finally he decided to refrain from calling and hoped that this was just an isolated incident. Nevertheless, he would have to be much more alert in the future, just in case there was something to this after all.

Half an hour later, they returned to the apartment and Tim got ready for bed. Once his nighttime routine was complete, he collapsed on top of the comforter and tried to sleep, but his mind wouldn't shut off. Soon he noticed Jethro enter his room and walk over towards the window. The shepherd sat and stared through the glass, watching and waiting for the threat he had detected before to return. His guardian's presence eased Tim's mind a little, but it was a long time before he was able to settle down enough to allow sleep to claim him.

XXX

She wanted to scream in frustration. The idea that the Devil would bring one of his Hellhounds as a guard had never occurred to her, and now she knew she'd never be able to get past it and take him while he was most vulnerable. She'd have to devise a new plan, but in the meantime? She needed to find a weapon. She listened as her companions whispered in her ear, telling her where to start her search, and what to do to make sure the weapon would do its job. They also advised her to be patient. Her time would come.

She glanced back up at the window, wondering if he truly held fear in his blackened heart, wondering if he would try to flee. She smiled. He could run, but he would not be able to avoid her forever. She would be like one of his own hounds of Hell, never ceasing until she had claimed her quarry. She reveled in the thought of him fleeing in fear… and in vain.

_Run, Devil, run…_

TBC…


	2. Chapter 2

Run Devil Run

Written for the _Paul McCartney Songbook_ Challenge and the _What Happened to Me?_ Challenge.

Disclaimer: Still don't own. Bummer

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Tim made it to his desk with seconds to spare and let out a brief sigh of relief before quickly checking the results of the searches he had started the night before. He read through the information, absorbing it and generating new search ideas which he then initiated. He was so focused on his task that he didn't notice the arrival of the rest of his team.

Suddenly he felt something smack the back of his head and nearly jumped out of his chair in surprise. He looked up at the person who had delivered the blow and glared when he saw who it was.

"What was that for, Tony?"

"I've been trying to get your attention for the last five minutes. Nothing else seemed to work. What are you doing?"

"Background on Corporal Fletcher. I'm trying to determine if there's something in his past that would explain why he wound up in that alley."

"So have you found anything?"

"No. Nothing at all." Tim sighed in frustration. "It's looking more and more like this was a random act of violence."

"Yeah, that's what we've been getting, too. No enemies, at least none that his platoon members knew about, and apparently no reason to think he could have any."

"His fiancée is coming in this morning, so maybe she will be able to help," added Ziva.

"She have an alibi?" asked Tony and Ziva groaned.

"Believe it or not, Tony, it is not always the girlfriend."

"Yeah, sometimes it's the wife, or the wife's boyfriend, or—"

"Or maybe it really was random," said Tim. "Which means it will be a lot harder to solve."

"Maybe not, McPessimist. Abby is checking security footage in the area. If it _wasn't_ planned, we're more likely to catch someone on tape."

"Yeah, maybe…"

Tim returned his attention to his computer and resumed his search, but soon the sensation of being watched took over his senses and he quickly turned to find both Tony and Ziva studying him.

"What?"

"You OK?" Tony asked, his expression serious.

Puzzled by his partner's overt concern, Tim took a moment to respond. "Yeah, why?"

"You're a little jumpy this morning. Something we should know?"

"No, I just didn't get much sleep last night."

"Oh _really?"_ Tony grinned and then winced when Ziva punched his arm.

"What happened?" Ziva asked. Tim sighed and quickly described Jethro's strange behavior and the unidentified observer that fled.

"Do you think this has something to do with our case?"

"I don't know. I mean… Never mind."

"What?"

"Well…at the scene yesterday, I felt like I was being watched."

"And you didn't mention it?" growled Gibbs as he came up behind Tony, causing the senior agent to jump slightly.

"I didn't see anyone, so I figured it was just nerves. You know, because of what we saw at the scene?"

"It bothered you that much?" Tony's incredulous tone grated on Tim's nerves.

"No," Tim snapped. "It was just...You know what? Forget it." He turned to Gibbs and managed to keep his tone neutral. "Nothing showed up in Fletcher's financials, Boss. Everything looks above board." He waited for the expected "keep looking", or "go help Abby", but Gibbs said nothing and he glanced up to meet his boss's gaze. Before either man could say anything Gibbs' desk phone rang and he went to answer it.

"Yeah, Gibbs. OK, bring her up." He hung up and turned to Tim. "Corporal Fletcher's fiancée is on her way up. Take her to the conference room and find out what she knows."

"Yes, Boss," Tim replied, somewhat surprised that Gibbs wanted him to do the interview.

"DiNozzo, Fletcher's C.O. wants to talk to us. Take Ziva and see what he has to say." Both agents glanced at each other. "What?"

"Nothing. Come on, Ziva." They grabbed their bags and headed for the elevator, which opened to reveal another agent and a woman with a visitor's badge pinned to her jacket. Tim went to greet her, catching a glimpse of his co-workers' expressions as the door slid shut, and sighed. It was going to be a long day.

XXX

She watched as two of the people that worked with him left the building and waited, expecting to see him join them, but again she was disappointed. More waiting. She _hated_ waiting, but she knew it was necessary. When the time was right, everything would fall into place.

She glanced down at the weapon and smiled. After she had left his apartment building the night before, she had gone in search of it and soon she had found it. A sign, she knew, that her mission was just and she would succeed.

She reached out and lovingly touched the sleek, dark handle of the weapon. After she had discovered it, she had carefully cleaned it, found a stone upon which to hone its blade to razor sharpness, and in the early morning hours had taken it to a church and blessed it with holy water. Now it was ready to send him back to Hell where he belonged.

When the time was right.

XXX

Tim led Elissa Barnes to the conference room and waited until she was seated before taking his seat across from her and used the opportunity to study the obviously distraught young woman.

"Why?" she asked tearfully as soon as he sat down. "Why did this happen to Charlie?"

"We're trying to determine that, ma'am. Did Corporal Fletcher mention any problems he may have had with someone in his platoon?"

"No, God no. They were like brothers. He never had anything bad to say about any of them…well, other than the usual teasing they did with each other." She paused to look up at him. "You don't think-?"

"Just being thorough. Has he mentioned any other issues? Money, maybe?"

"No. Charlie was adamant about not spending money on unnecessary things, and he always tried to set money aside in his savings account. He wanted us to have a real house someday when he left the Corps and was trying to get a good down payment ready."

"He was planning on leaving?"

"Not right away, no. He knew when he joined it wasn't going to be a permanent thing. He was taking classes for an I.T. degree so he'd have something when he got out. One of the reasons he joined was for the tuition assistance."

"And how did the members of his platoon feel about that?"

"They supported him. A lot of them were doing the same thing."

"The two of you were planning on getting married. Any issues with that, his family or yours?"

"No. My family adores him, and his family…well, they're all gone."

"Ok. So he never mentioned anything that was bothering him?"

An uncertain look crossed her face. "Well, there was something …but Charlie didn't think it was a big deal."

"What was it?"

"He, uh…he told me a few days ago, he had this weird feeling sometimes when he went off the base, like…like he was being watched."

Tim felt a chill down his spine and struggled to hide his anxiety. "Anything more specific?"

"Well, no. He just said it started one night after he and a couple of his buddies had gone to a bar. He was the designated driver, you see, so no one else noticed anything, but he said he just got a weird feeling. He didn't actually see anyone, though, and he…he shrugged it off. Then, about two days later, he said he felt it again. He still didn't see anyone and…well, it bothered him enough to tell me about it, but…he acted like it wasn't important." Again, she looked up at him and met his gaze. "Do you think that had something to do with…?"

"As I said, just being thorough. Can you tell me the name of the bar? And who was with him?"

"He didn't mention the name of the bar…just that it was off base. He said he went with Jared, Mark, and Denny. That would be Jared Baker, Mark Rittig, and Dennis Hoffman.

McGee quickly wrote down the names. "Do you know what day he was there?"

"Last Friday. The 24th."

"Thank you."

"Are you going to catch him? The bastard who did this?"

"We're doing our best, ma'am. Is there anything else that you can tell me that might help?"

"No… I was out of town with my sister until last night, so I haven't seen him since Tuesday. I…" She took a deep shuddering breath. "I didn't get to tell him… we never said goodbye when we had to leave each other. He said if we didn't say goodbye, we'd always be together."

Tim just nodded. He'd make sure he checked her alibi, but he didn't think mentioning that to her would help. He took one of his business cards out of his wallet and handed it to her.

"Thank you for your time, Ms. Barnes. If you think of anything else, please give me a call."

"Ok…and you'll let me know, when…when you catch him?"

"Yes, ma'am. I will." He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile and left the room, intent on tracking down the newest batch of information.

Tim quickly returned to his desk and started to verify Elissa Barnes' alibi. Her sister confirmed that they had been in Ohio since Wednesday night, at least 24 hours before Fletcher was murdered, and credit card transactions backed up what the sister had said. Another dead end.

As soon as Gibbs returned, presumably from the subbasement, Tim told him what he had learned from the fiancée and the two of them headed back to Quantico to interview Fletcher's buddies again. When they stepped outside, once again Tim was hit with the sensation that he was being observed, and he glanced around. He thought he saw a pickup truck, very similar to the one he had seen last night, parked on the street across from the lot where the sedans were parked, but he couldn't be sure. He tried to get a better look, to see if the driver was present, but the sun was reflecting off the windshield and he couldn't see inside.

"McGee?"

Startled, he turned and saw that Gibbs was staring at him, obviously annoyed by his agent's distraction, but Tim thought he detected concern as well.

"Sorry, Boss. I just thought I saw…never mind." He climbed into the passenger's seat of the sedan and closed the door. When Gibbs got in the other side, he didn't immediately start the engine."

"You want to tell me what's going on?"

Tim sighed. He really didn't want to have this conversation, but he also knew he didn't have a choice.

"I thought I saw the truck that was at my apartment last night, but it's probably nothing. I didn't get that good of a look at it and—"

"Someone's following you?"

"No, probably not. Just this case… I'm being paranoid."

"It's not being paranoid if—"

"—they're really out to get you, I know. Seriously, Boss, it's probably nothing."

Gibbs continued to stare at him silently for several moments before he finally put the key in the ignition and started the car. "If anything else happens, McGee, you let me know. Understood?"

"Yes, Boss. Understood."

The rest of the trip to Quantico was silent.

XXX

She pounded her fists on the steering wheel in frustration. He was never alone. There was always someone or something with him. How could she ever get that opportunity to destroy him when he was always surrounded, always protected? She glanced at the weapon again, eager to put it to use, but angered by the fact she had been denied thus far. Perhaps it was time to be…what was the word? Proactive. Draw him out, make him come to her.

She smiled as a plan began to form in her mind.

TBC…


	3. Chapter 3

Run Devil Run

Written for the _Paul McCartney Songbook_ Challenge and the _What Happened to Me?_ Challenge.

Disclaimer: Still don't own. Bummer

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Corporals Baker, Rittig, and Hoffman didn't have much to add to what they already knew. They did remember the name of the bar, Martin's, and Rittig recalled that Fletcher had been a little "freaked out" on the way home, but he hadn't said why. They all expressed disbelief that someone might have been stalking their friend. Tim asked if they had seen a beat-up pickup truck in the area at the time, but none of them remembered seeing one.

They made a trip to the bar and the bartender was as unhelpful as the Marines had been, if not more so. When Gibbs showed him Fletcher's picture, he did remember the man, but only because he wasn't drinking.

"Sober as a judge", the bartender added. "Usually the DDs allow themselves at least one beer, but this guy didn't."

"Anything to suggest he was worried?" asked Gibbs.

"Maybe just that his fiancée would kill him if he drank and drove," the bartender said with a chuckle. "Said she was kinda strict about that. His buddies teased him about being 'whipped', but it didn't seem to bother him."

"Anyone pay special attention to him while he was here?"

"Not that I noticed. Hey, it was Friday night and we were packed. I had other things on my mind."

"If you remember anything…" Gibbs held out his card and the bartender took it with a grimace.

"Yeah, yeah, I know the routine. Sorry I couldn't help."

Tim followed Gibbs out of the bar and when they reached the sedan, he stopped to take a look around.

"McGee?"

Tim almost sighed in relief. "Nothing, Boss." He turned back to the car and paused when he saw something that did catch his interest. "Security camera, Boss," he said as he pointed it out. "Maybe…"

They headed back to the bar, and the bartender looked surprised to see them again.

"You fellas forget something?"

"Your security camera. Do you still have the tapes from Friday night?"

"You're in luck. Normally we only keep them a week, so we do still have them." He frowned. "Don't you need a warrant for that?"

"No if the owner agrees to give them to us," Tim replied. "Give him a call."

The bartender grumbled a few colorful phrases as he searched for and found the owner's number and then made the call. He quickly handed the phone to Gibbs, who explained the situation with more patience than Tim expected before handing the phone back to the bartender. The man listened for a few more moments and ended the call.

"He says I can give them to you, but I'll need a receipt, and you owe us a tape if he doesn't get it back before next Friday."

"Fine."

With a huff, the bartender headed for the back of the building and Tim followed. After the exchange had been made and receipt signed, Tim returned to the front of the bar and followed Gibbs back out to the sedan. The feeling of being watched had not returned and Tim breathed a real sigh of relief. Maybe he _was_ just being paranoid after all.

Once they returned to the Yard, Tim took the tape to Abby and returned to his desk, arriving in the bullpen at the same time as Tony and Ziva.

"Anything?" Gibbs demanded.

"Corporal Fletcher's C.O. informed us that Fletcher had seemed a little distracted in the days prior to his death. We searched Fletcher's barracks and found nothing: no drugs, no letters, no sign of anything that would explain what happened to him."

"I think the C.O. was covering his own butt, Boss. He didn't want to make it seem like he was covering anything up."

"So basically, you have nothing."

"Sorry, Boss."

Before Tim could add anything, his desk phone rang and he answered it. "McGee." He listened to the caller and felt the blood drain from his face as he processed what was being said. "When? What about Jethro, is he…? OK. OK, thank you. I'll be right there." He dropped the phone back in the receiver and stood, still reeling from the news he had just received. _Why…?_

"McGee?"

"I… I have to go. My…my apartment. My apartment's on fire. Someone torched my apartment."

Ziva gasped and Tony swore as Tim tried to command his feet to move him forward but his body wouldn't respond. He barely noticed when Gibbs grabbed him and pushed him into his chair. He leaned forward and tried to take a few deep breaths, but again his body wouldn't cooperate.

"Easy, McGee, just take it easy. Tell me what happened."

"My…dog walker called. She had taken Jethro out for his mid-day exercise and when she got back she saw smoke coming out of the window. She called the fire-department and…she said she saw someone else watching my apartment from the alley. She yelled at them to get help and they took off. She didn't get a good look, but she thinks… she doesn't think it was an accidental fire." He looked up at Gibbs. "I have to go. Tell Abby Jethro's OK… I don't want her to worry…"

Gibbs turned to his other two agents. "DiNozzo, David, get the truck. I'll meet you there." Without a word they left.

"Boss, I—"

"This is _not_ 'nothing', McGee. You stay here. Do not leave the building."

"But—"

"That's an order, McGee. Someone is gunning for you, and until we know why, you need to concentrate on figuring out what this has to do with our case."

"It might not have—"

"You know how I feel about coincidences, McGee."

"But…what about Jethro? Someone has to—"

"I'll take care of it, Tim."

Tim realized he wasn't going to get Gibbs to budge on the matter. "Thanks, Boss."

"Go see if Abby found anything on the tape, alright?"

Tim nodded and headed down to the lab, but his mind was on what had happened, and why he was suddenly the target of an unknown aggressor.

XXX

NO! No, no, no! Where was he? Why wasn't he here? This should have drawn him out, caused him to rush back to his lair, alone and unprotected. But no, he had not taken the bait. He had sent his demons to investigate, and no doubt they would report her efforts back to him. But why hadn't he come here himself? Was he truly afraid, or was he planning a counter attack. She knew she had been seen by the one charged with caring for his 'pet', and she needed to disguise herself better. She needed a new mode of transportation as well. Once again, she waited for her ever-present companions to guide her, and soon she had an answer. It was time to step back, to wait, to allow him to grow reckless again. Then she would make her move. They told her it wouldn't be long, and soon she would have the chance to prove herself…to fulfill her destiny. The Devil would be dead at last…

XXX

Tim made it down to the lab and was in the middle of explaining to Abby what had happened—leading the story with the fact that Jethro _hadn't_ been in the apartment at the time of the fire—when everything suddenly hit him and he froze in mid-sentence, the shock overwhelming his system. He barely registered Abby's frantic questions as what he had lost finally hit home. _His_ _home_. His home and all of his possessions within were gone. His collection of computer equipment, rare books, records, family photos… most were replaceable, but even so… A sense of violation overtook him and he leaned heavily against the counter, still barely aware of what was happening around him.

Eventually he noticed someone helping to lower him into a chair and something soft yet sturdy was placed in his arms. He reflexively tightened his arms around it and the familiar noise brought him back to reality. He looked up at Abby and Ducky and gave them a weak smile.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have freaked out like that."

"You had quite a shock, Timothy. It's understandable."

"I know, but it shouldn't have affected me like that. I need—"

"You need to rest. Take some time to adjust."

"I'm fine, Ducky, I swear. I need to get back to work." He turned to Abby, who was watching him with wide, fearful eyes. "Sorry, Abby."

Immediately she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly, eliciting another burst of sound from the toy Tim still held in his arms, which caused all three of them to chuckle softly.

"It's OK, Timmy. It's going to be OK." She released him and stepped back, her worried expression morphing to one of grim determination. "We'll find who did this and—"

"—maybe find the connection to Fletcher as well." Tim managed to get to his feet and handed Bert back to Abby. "Thanks for the loan. What did you find on the video?"

"Timothy…"

"I'm OK, Ducky. I just…I need to work. It helps."

Ducky patted his shoulder. "I understand. Still, I would like to check you over. Come down as soon as you're done here. It that clear?"

"Yes, Ducky. And thanks."

The M.E. nodded and left as Tim returned his attention to the computer. "Show me what you found, Abby."

She cued up the video. "So far, not much. I found the section where the Marines returned to their car. Here." She hit pause. "There's Corporal Fletcher. He stops and looks around, but there's nothing visible in the frame. Maybe he heard something, but there's no sound, so—"

"Wait. Zoom in, right there." Tim pointed to a vehicle parked a few spaces away from Fletcher's car. It was a pickup truck, badly in need of a paint job.

Abby zoomed in on the truck and stopped. It looked a hell of a lot like the truck Tim had seen at his apartment the night before.

"Can you get the license plate?"

She scrolled down to the section where the plate should have been, but there was none visible. "No front plate. Either it was removed or—"

"—it's from a state that doesn't require front plates." He pulled up a search screen to find which states fit the criteria. "Alabama, Arizona, Arkansas, Delaware, Florida, Georgia, Indiana, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Michigan, Mississippi, New Mexico, North Carolina, Oklahoma, Pennsylvania, South Carolina, Tennessee, and West Virginia. Doesn't narrow it down much."

"And even if you could narrow it down to the state…"

"Yeah." He slumped slightly, the weight of the situation bearing down on him once again. Abby gave him a one-armed hug.

"It's OK, Tim. We'll find him."

"I hope so…"

They worked in silence for the next hour. They did manage to get a glimpse of the driver when the person exited the vehicle and when they returned after Fletcher had left, but the face was not visible. When, at last they determined nothing else could be found on the tape Tim decided to return to his desk, although Abby was reluctant to let him go. He assured her that nothing was likely to happen to him at the Yard and finally she allowed him to leave.

Once he reached his desk he started checking on Fletcher's background again, but this time he was cross-checking with his own. He was still working on it when the rest of the team returned, reeking of smoke and bearing smudges of soot on the faces. He immediately searched their expressions and felt his heart sink once again.

"Bad?"

"Pretty sure it was arson, but the Fire Marshall will give us a definite as soon as they finish their investigation. Your apartment is a total loss, Tim. I'm sorry." For once, Tony didn't have a smartass comment.

"Was anyone hurt?"

"Luckily no one was home. Most of the damage was confined to your place but the surrounding apartments do have smoke and water damage."

Tim felt a surge of guilt. _My fault…but why?_ Suddenly he remembered another responsibility and felt another surge of guilt for not asking sooner.

"How's Jethro?"

"We found a kennel that could take him on short notice. He will be fine," Ziva replied. "We explained the situation and they were quite willing to give you a reduced rate as well."

Tim managed a smile. "Thanks, guys."

"Our pleasure, McGee."

"Find anything?"

"No, Boss. There was a truck on the video that looked like the one I saw at my apartment, but it didn't have a front plate. We couldn't see the driver's face, either. All I can tell you is that they're not very big. I could go check the other businesses and see if they have security footage. Maybe that will give us something."

"Tony, with me."

"But Boss—"

"Told you already, McGee: you're staying here until we catch this bastard."

"Yes, Boss."

Gibbs and Tony left, and Ziva walked around his desk and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"It will be alright, McGee."

Tim shook his head. "I just wish I had an idea _why_…"

"You really believe this is related to Fletcher's murder?"

"Gibbs does. You know how he feels about coincidences."

"But why would this man target both you and Fletcher?"

"I've been looking into that, Ziva. So far, no idea. I'll keep working on it, though."

"So there if there is no connection…perhaps it is random. Or you were both targeted based on something the killer has seen, or perhaps something they believe they know."

"But we still have no idea what that could be."

She thought for a moment. "Maybe there are other similar crimes that will give us an idea? We have not looked into that yet, although that was on my list."

"Couldn't hurt to check."

Ziva nodded and went to her own desk. Soon they were both hard at work.

Gibbs and Tony returned a couple of hours later. Only one other business in the area had security cameras in place, but the tapes had already been erased. Tim let out a soft groan of frustration and returned to his search. He barely noticed as the sky darkened outside and most of the other employees on their floor left for the day. Finally his thoughts were interrupted by Tony.

"It's getting kinda late, McGee. Are you planning on being here all night?" Tim looked up at the older man and saw him wince when he realized what he had said. Tim shrugged sadly in response.

"Where else am I going to go?"

"You know you can crash at my place, McGee."

"Yeah, I know, but…"

"But what?"

"I don't want to bring my problems down on you. Any of you." He winced and looked up at Gibbs. "What was that for?"

"Our problems, too, McGee." Tony and Ziva voiced their agreement and Tim shook his head.

"Thanks again, guys, but I'd feel better if I kept working on this. The sooner we find this guy…"

"Understood, McGee." They all returned to their desks and started working their way through the notes they had collected.

The next few days passed, filled with more searches, more interviews, and Tim attempting to deal with his insurance company over the loss of his apartment. His sleep, what little he managed to get when he borrowed the futon in Abby's lab, was plagued by nightmares: a nebulous, barely seen shadow stalked him through his dreams to the point where he was almost afraid to sleep at all. He barely left the building during that time, leaving only to go get food and to make a shopping trip to make sure he had something to wear at work. Finally, after a week and no more leads, Tim was ready for a break. Tony suggested that they all go out for a drink and, against his better judgment, Tim accepted.

XXX

She felt like her heart was going to explode in her chest when she saw him leave the confines of his workplace. Finally! Her elation was soon shattered when she saw that he was accompanied by his co-workers, including one or two she hadn't seen before. Was he still wary, even after all this time, and he surrounded himself for protection? Or was she meant to take him out in front of those who worked with…no, _for_ him? They had to be working for him. There was no way someone could be in his presence for so long and not be disgusted by his vile aura. They were his. Demons, disciples, it didn't matter. She would show them that divine justice was not to be intimidated. She had waited so long for the right moment and she knew the seeing him outside, on foot, was a definite sign. She would take him tonight. It would finally be over.

TBC…


	4. Chapter 4

Run Devil Run

Written for the _Paul McCartney Songbook_ Challenge and the _What Happened to Me?_ Challenge.

Disclaimer: Still don't own. Bummer.

Short chapter, but this is where the breaks needed to be.

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Tim stumbled slightly as he left the bar with his team. He'd only had a single glass of wine, but the alcohol, combined with a week's worth of poor sleep, slowed his reflexes and affected his coordination. Tony clapped him on the back, called him "McClumsy", and he started to offer a retort when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned to find a petite young woman approaching, a bright smile on her face, and before he could respond he saw her bring something in her hand up to his chest and he felt a sudden, sharp pain as the object sank into his flesh. He heard a scream and briefly wondered who had made the sound before his knees met the pavement. Someone grabbed him, preventing him from falling forward, and he saw a flash of a twisted face, its eyes dark with insanity, before it was pulled from his field of view and the sounds of a struggle reached his ears.

_Tony… Ziva… I need to help them…_

"McGee! Tim, damn it, stay with me!"

"NO! TIMMY!"

"We need an ambulance, NOW!"

"Timothy, stay calm. You will be alright. Just breathe, lad, just breathe."

He tried to tell them he was OK, but soon found himself unable to draw a breath. Panic caused his heart to hammer in his chest and he felt strong hands grip his arms as he tried to escape.

"No, Tim! Stay still. You're gonna be OK. Listen to me. You'll be fine."

_Dying… No, I'm not allowed…I don't have permission…_

"S-sorry…B-boss."

"No, damn it! Tim, don't you dare!"

Abby's sobs were the last thing he heard before he slipped into oblivion.

XXX

Her whole body ached from when those demons had slammed her to the ground, but she managed not to show her pain. She sat quietly in the chair to which she was chained, and smiled. Her job was done. The Devil was dead. Even though he had been carted away in an ambulance, more dead than alive, she knew that it had been too late. She had ended him, just as destiny had intended. He guardians were pleased, she knew, and had instructed her to wait calmly for her final reward. This new situation was just another test of her inner strength, her loyalty to the cause. She would not break down in the face of those who had been a part of his evil cadre on Earth. She ignored the man sitting next to her, her supposed "advocate" as he tried to tell her what to do: don't answer their questions, don't say anything unless I tell you. She knew he was part of their plan to harm her, and she paid no heed to his advice. Nothing any of them said or did would matter to her in the long run.

She was untouchable.

Soon one of the demons, wearing the face of a man with silver hair and icy blue eyes, entered the room with a folder under its arm and sat in the chair opposite. It placed the folder on the table, opened it and removed a picture which it pushed across the table. She didn't bother to look at the picture. It didn't matter.

"Why?" the demon asked. "Why McGee?"

"Who?" she asked sweetly, and felt a small glow of satisfaction when she saw anger in its eyes.

"Special Agent Timothy McGee. The man you stabbed last night in full view of six witnesses, three of them NCIS agents."

"You don't need to answer that," said the man next to her, but she continued to ignore him in favor of watching the demon in front of her. It didn't flinch or blink. It was very good at pretending not to be afraid of her, but she knew it was.

After several moments, with neither of them backing down, the demon removed a second picture and pushed it towards her across the table. She didn't look at that one, either.

"Marine Corporal Charles Fletcher. You killed him, ten days ago. Why?"

"Agent Gibbs, this is merely conjecture. Where is your proof?"

She allowed herself to gaze at the new picture and frowned. No. They were trying to trick her. It wouldn't work.

"We lifted a partial print from a button on Fletcher's jacket. Five point match to your client's right index finger."

"That will never hold up in court."

"Oh, you might be surprised. And we're just getting started."

The man said nothing, and the demon smiled at her, sending a chill down her spine and weakening her resolve.

"Well?" It stabbed at the picture with its finger. "Why did you attack these two men?"

"They're _not_ men," she finally burst out, and immediately regretted it. She was supposed to stay strong.

"Miss Sparks, I really must insist that you don't respond to these questions!"

The demon ignored the man and leaned in closer. "They _are_ men. _Good_ men. So tell me why."

"Agent Gibbs, my client—"

"Your client killed a Marine and put one of my agents in the ICU. He might not make it, and if that happens—"

"Are you _threatening _her, Agent Gibbs? That's it, this interview is over—"

"It's not over until she tells me why she did it!"

"_Because I had to!"_

The man and the demon stopped and turned to her.

"You _had_ to do it?"

She pointed to the second picture. "I thought I had sent him back to Hell, but then," she pointed to the first picture. "He showed up again. He wasn't supposed to come back and I had to stop him!"

"Who wasn't supposed to come back?"

"_The Devil!"_ She screamed, unable to maintain her façade any longer. "He's the Devil! I knew it as soon as I saw him! He's evil, and you!" She jabbed her finger in the demon's direction. "You're one of his. You're evil, too!"

The demon stood back, obviously stunned, but she didn't care. "I didn't stop him before, I failed, but when I saw him again, I knew I could do it. They told me I had to do it. I watched, I waited, and when the time was right I took my holy blade and plunged it into his cold, black, twisted heart!" By the time she finished she was gasping for breath. Finally the man recovered from her outburst and turned to the demon.

"Agent Gibbs, I think it's quite clear my client is not in her right mind. I—"

"Yeah, quite clear," the demon snapped before gathering up the folder and pictures and turning to leave. After it was gone she started to calm down, and with the calm came shame. She had allowed it to get to her. Had she failed the test? Would she receive her reward? The demon had said that she hadn't killed the Devil, but demons lie, don't they?

Soon two men—just men, not demons, she decided—entered the room and unhooked her restraints from the chair, only to then hook her hands together. She wondered if this was another test, and she decided that if it was, it was one she would not fail. She allowed herself to be led from the room, head held high, and ignored the blazing looks from the group of demons in the hallway as she passed.

She was worthy. She would still get her reward. Of that, she was certain.

TBC…


	5. Chapter 5

Run Devil Run

Written for the _Paul McCartney Songbook_ Challenge and the _What Happened to Me?_ Challenge.

Disclaimer: Still don't own. Bummer

* * *

**Chapter 5**

The first thing he heard was a steady beeping. It was a little annoying, but somehow familiar.

_Where am I?_

There was something in his throat, forcing him to breathe. It wasn't comfortable, but he quickly realized there was nothing he could do about it. Soon he noticed voices filtering down through the darkness and Tim tried to open his eyes so he could see the speakers, but he just didn't have the strength to do so. He listened instead, hoping for a clue to his predicament.

"I can't believe this happened to McGee."

"Nor I. It is like something out of one of your movies, Tony."

_What happened to me?_

"How did we miss it? I mean, she just walked up to him and…"

_She? Who was she? What did she do to me?_

"We let our guard down. We should not have done that."

"I know, but who would have thought she'd attack in a public place like that, with all of us right there?"

_Attack? I was attacked? Why? What did I do?_

Tim felt tendrils of panic start to work their way into his brain and he noticed the speed of the beeps he had been hearing increased.

"What's going on?"

"I think he is waking up. McGee, can you hear me?"

He tried to respond but the thing in his throat prevented it. He tried once again to open his eyes, but his efforts were in vain. He felt something wrap around his hand and found it strangely comforting.

"McGee, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand. Please, McGee."

"Come on, Probie, you can do it."

He tried to comply but only managed to move them a fraction of an inch. The effort completely wore him out, however, and unconsciousness overwhelmed him once more.

The next time Tim became aware of his surroundings, there were two different voices present.

"How is he, Duck?"

"He is doing remarkably well, considering what happened. He was exceedingly lucky that the blade did not pierce the pericardium. If it had…"

_Blade? What blade? I was stabbed? Why?_

"I still can't believe that woman—"

"She was delusional, Jethro."

"I'll say. What she thought about McGee? That was one _hell _of a delusion."

_What did she think about me?_

He heard the beeping increase again, and he tried to move, tried to speak, but once again the thing in his throat prevented it.

"Duck, what's going on?"

"Timothy? Can you hear me?"

Finally his lids responded to his command to open and he blinked when the light hit his eyes. A few more blinks, and his vision cleared enough for him to see the familiar face looking down at him.

_Ducky… What happened to me?_

"Timothy, it's so good to see you. No, don't try to talk, not yet. You're still recovering. You've had a rough go, but you're on the mend, lad. I promise."

Tim let his gaze drift and saw another familiar face watching him.

_Boss?_

Gibbs grinned. "Welcome back, Tim."

Tim blinked. He tried to convey his worry and his questions to in his expression Gibbs and the lead agent seemed to understand.

"Do you remember what happened, Tim? Blink once for yes, twice for no." Tim blinked twice. "You were attacked. A woman had been stalking you."

_Stalking me? Why? _

He saw Gibbs glance at Ducky and the M.E. continued.

"We are not entirely certain, but it seems you became the target of her rather vivid delusions. It was nothing you had done, Timothy, believe me."

Tim felt slightly better, but there were still so many unanswered questions. He decided they could wait until later and drifted off again.

After several periods of near-waking, Tim was finally able to stay conscious long enough to interact with his doctor and was taken off the ventilator. His throat was sore and he lacked the strength to talk, but he could at least smile and blink in response to questions. He had trouble staying awake, and every time he did wake up he had at least someone with him: his team, including Abby, Ducky, and even Jimmy; his grandmother and his sister; and finally, much to his surprise, his parents. His mother fussed while his father hung back, obviously unsure how to deal with the situation, but it was a comfort to see them. _All _of them.

It was several more days before he could use his voice to any degree, and he was finally able to ask the questions he'd wanted answers to for so long. Unfortunately, his visitors, Tony, Abby, and Ziva, were reluctant to share.

"Please…tell me," he croaked after his questions had been met with an uncomfortable silence. At last it was Ziva who filled him in, and he listened in shock as she described what she had seen and heard when Gibbs had the suspect in interrogation.

"She…she thought I was…"

"Yeah," Tony answered. "Corporal Fletcher, too. Apparently you were version 2.0."

"But that's…"

"Crazy? Tell me about it. That lady is certified guano. What's crazier is that she got to that point and no one noticed."

"But do not worry, McGee. She has been put away. She will never be able to harm you again," Ziva assured him as she placed a comforting hand on his arm.

"If she gets out?"

"She won't, Tim. Even if they ever find her sane, she still murdered a Marine and almost… She attacked a federal agent. She's not going anywhere." Abby put her hand on his other arm. She had been strangely subdued during her visits, and for that Tim was grateful. Her normal manic energy would have been too much for him, he knew.

"Do not worry about her, McGee. Concentrate on getting better."

"And getting out of here. The nurses are nowhere near hot enough to stick around longer than necessary." Tony's goofy grin brought a weak smile to Tim's face, but then he remembered something else and it vanished.

"I don't…I don't have a place to go."

"Don't worry, Timmy. We took care of that."

"How?"

"We found you a new place, with much better security, and we got everyone at NCIS to chip in on getting you some new stuff. At least enough to tide you over until your insurance on the old place comes through," Tony explained.

"You…you didn't have to…do that."

"Yeah, we did, Tim. You deserve to be safe."

"Thanks…"

"Don't mention it. Seriously, don't. Ever again. I have a reputation to uphold, you know."

"Tony, your reputation was sunk a long time ago. And we were happy to help, McGee. You are our friend. We only wish that we could have done something to prevent all of this in the first place."

"You…couldn't have known."

"No, and neither could you."

He lapsed into silence, unsure how to respond but the rest seemed to understand. They turned to lighter topics as his friends obviously tried to take his mind of his situation until his exhaustion became apparent. They all nodded to each other, and Abby gave him a very gentle hug.

"Now get some rest, Timmy, and get better. It's not the same at work without you."

"Thanks… All of you."

Abby and Ziva each planted a kiss on his cheeks and Tony patted his shoulder before they headed out. Once his team had left, Tim tried to sleep, but for the first time in a while it eluded him. He thought about what they had told him, how all of this had started, just because he caught the attention of a psychotic young woman who had apparently decided that he was evil incarnate. He told himself such a thing was unlikely to ever happen again. Still…

He shook his head slightly and closed his eyes as he tried to push those thoughts from his mind. He knew he had been lucky. He could very well be dead instead of recovering. He had a team that was looking out for him, that wanted him to be safe.

But he was still worried he'd _never_ feel safe, ever again.

XXX

She hated this place.

Too many people watching her, all of the time. No privacy in which to talk to her companions, who had remained strangely silent ever since she had been brought here. She suspected it was the fault of the people who ran the place, the doctors, and everyone else who did not have the strength of character to believe as she did. _They_ were unworthy, and they were corrupting her with their very presence.

And then there were the pills they tried to force her to take. She pretended to consume the poison they brought in little paper cups, because she learned very quickly what happened if she didn't take them. Over time she had become adept at hiding them from those who would have forced them on her if she didn't comply. She knew it was another test, another way she could prove herself loyal to her companions, and to the task she had been given.

It distressed her that she might have failed in her task. The demon had told her the Devil was still alive, but she didn't want to believe it. That shouldn't be possible. This time, she was sure her aim had been true. Unfortunately, as time went on, she became less sure. Doubt clouded her mind, and she wondered if this was yet again a test of her resolve. She decided to wait for a sign, for some message from her companions as to what she should do next. The waiting was awful, but she was sure she would still get her reward. There was no other outcome.

Her door opened and a man entered. He was new, she hadn't seen him before.

"Time for your pills, Mary."

He came closer and when she saw his face, she gasped. No. No, it couldn't be. He was back! A new face on the surface, but beneath, she could still see the Beast ginning at her, mocking her. She wanted to attack him right then, to tear him apart, but she didn't have a weapon. She was helpless, and at his mercy.

"Something wrong?"

She clenched her jaw and did her best to keep the fear from her expression. She would not let him see that she was afraid. She stared up at him, hatred in her eyes, and to her delight the grin faltered. He _was _still afraid of her. The idea warmed her heart and she smiled.

His expression uncertain, the Devil handed her the cup with her pills.

"Take those, now."

She nodded, but her smile showed her defiance as she pretended to consume the poison and threw the cup on the floor. She saw a flash of fear in those terrible eyes and she grinned at him. See? You haven't won. I'll be coming for you again.

All confidence gone, the Devil beat a hasty retreat and for the first time since she had been brought here, the voices spoke, complimenting her. She reveled in their praise and began to plan her next move.

She had rattled the Devil once again, and this time, she was positive that she would succeed. She would kill the Devil. He could not escape her again, no matter how he might try. There was no place on Earth where he would be safe from her, ever again.

_Run, Devil, run…_

The End

* * *

A/N: In addition to the aforementioned challenges, this fic was meant to be a bit of a challenge to myself to write a story using only two points of view, and one of those from a person who was clearly insane. I'm not sure if it worked, but I'd love to hear what you think.


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